


again and again

by OnyxSphinx



Series: newmann one-shots [137]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anniversary, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/OnyxSphinx
Summary: A day in the life of Newton Geiszler, happily married, post-Pitfall
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Series: newmann one-shots [137]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1286762
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	again and again

**Author's Note:**

> anon asked: "It's wedding season and no matter how much some of the pre-stuff may be...less than wonderful...once I'm actually there watching everything I always melt. So naturally I have a Newmann prompt lol "God, I love you. Let's keep getting married every year forever.""

Newt wakes up before the alarm.

On any other day, that’d be a _good_ thing, but today, not so much, given he wakes up literally a minute before it’s set to ring at six in the morning, and by the time he’s actually cracked his eyes open and shoved his glasses on, the alarm is beeping at him.

“ _Newton_ ,” Hermann, still under the covers, hair fanned out over his pillow, groans, sleep making his voice rough, “turn it _off_.”

Newt tries not to smile at the other’s voice, and fumbles for the off button.

When he finally manages it, he turns to look at the other fully. He’s rolled over to squint at Newt through long, dark lashes, and, laying there, against the white of the sheets, he looks like something out of a painting. They’ve been married nearly a year and still, the sight leaves Newt breathless; awed.

“ _Newton_ ,” Hermann says again, and this time his hand creeps out from beneath the warmth of the covers. “Do you really _have_ to get up just yet…?”

His words are sleep-mellowed, but Newt can feel the longing in them through what still remains of the Drift bond, and it _does_ make him smile. “I have _work_ ,” he points out, but it’s only half-hearted.

“Not until _eight_ ,” Hermann counters. “Please?”

“Oh, alright,” Newt says, “if you insist.” As if it’s some sort of _hardship_ —frankly, Newt is just as eager to curl under the covers again, with Hermann, who is half-asleep, and blinking slowly at him, lips slightly parted.

The instant he lays back down, Hermann curls against him, pressing his frigid hands and feet to Newt like some sort of heat-seeking missile. “ _Dude_ ,” Newt protests, “come _on_ …”

“Shh,” Hermann says, and nuzzles Newt’s neck.

Newt smiles again. God. He loves Hermann so much. 

Eventually, though, he _does_ have to get up—to much grumbling from his partner—, and get dressed, and actually go to _work_ , which, while not pressing in the way it was in the War, is still pretty important.

“You were _constantly_ late,” Hermann reminds him, glaring balefully at being abandoned in bed.

“Shut up,” Newt huffs, and tugs at his tie, eyeing it distastefully in the mirror. God, he wishes he had just caved and bought a clip-on, but _no_ , twenty-three-year-old Newt was very dedicated to his image and now Newt spends a minimum of twenty minutes struggling to tie these _damn_ ties because buying clip-ons _now_ would mean having to admit he doesn’t _actually_ know how to tie them.

He gives it a tug and grimaces.

Arms wrap around his waist. “Would you like a hand?” Hermann asks, breath tickling the nape of Newt’s neck.

“Shut _up_ ,” Newt grumbles again, but turns to let the other help. Hermann has to bend over a bit—fucking _height difference_ , it’s only _two inches_ —, but he’s practised at it, and it only takes him a few moments to pull the tie into shape.

“There,” he says, nodding, “I cannot _believe_ you sometimes, honestly, Newton—why not just _ask_ first? We both know you’re rubbish at it.”

Newt scowls. Sadly, Hermann is right. It’s a little song and dance they do nearly _every_ time Newt puts a tie on, these days. Still, it’s better than spending half an hour or more every morning rewatching the same youtube videos that never explained the process properly, and Hermann always gives that little satisfied hum when he steps back.

He reaches out to smooth the collar of Newt’s shirt; a faint smile turning up the corners of his lips, and; god; Newt could kiss him.

He _can_ kiss him; so he does; softly. Curls his fingers against Hermann’s neck, other hand going to his cheek. It’s short; not much more than a press of his lips against Hermann’s, and when he pulls back, Hermann’s looking at him gently.

“I love you,” Newt says, grinning at it; and Hermann smiles back.

“I love you too,” he says. “Now go put on a pair of trousers and get going before you’re late to work.”

Newt laughs. “Alright, alright, I’ll be out of your hair,” he says, “but you gotta let go of me.”

Hermann doesn’t, and he looks rather miffed at the suggestion as well. “Damn you, you horrid little man,” he says.

“If you wanted another kiss you could just _say so_ ,” Newt points out, but he’s already leaning up to kiss Hermann again. Hermann gives a contented little hum.

Finally, they do break apart though; and Newt grabs a granola-bar on the way out. “See you later, dude!” he calls over his shoulder as he pulls his shoes on.

“Good-bye, Newton,” Hermann calls back. “Text me when you get there?”

“‘Course,” Newt replies, “bye!”

It’s so—god, so _stupid_ , honestly, these little things; or Newt would have called them stupid when he was younger, but now, they just make him smile; this routine of theirs, of Newt texting to tell Hermann he got to work on time, and of Hermann calling him during his lunch break to leave a voice-mail rambling about what he’s done and the weather and whatever the _hell_ he’s got on his mind.

“Someone’s cheery,” Tendo says, when he meets him in LOCCENT.

“Just happy about life,” Newt says, with a shrug.

Tendo’s lips twist into a wry smile. “It looks good on you,” he says. “And you deserve it.”

Newt smiles wider. “Thanks,” he says.

It’s their anniversary, soon, he realises suddenly; and that thought makes him smile even more widely, so much that his cheeks are hurting with it, but in a good way.

* * *

“Happy anniversary,” Hermann says; and he looks _terribly_ awkward, frankly; half-out of breath and smelling a bit like burnt wood, and the smoke alarm is going off above them and the windows are open to let out the billowing smoke. “I, ah, tried to make cookies.”

“ _Hermann_ ,” Newt says, and he's—god, he can’t breathe, but it’s because of the emotion more than the smoke. “God, I love you,” he blurts out suddenly. “I’m so fucking glad we got married. Let’s keep getting married every year _forever_.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hermann says, but his eyes are misty, and Newt _knows_ that’s not the smoke; at least, not mainly. “God,” he says, and then again, “ _God,_ ” and his lips are twisting into a rueful smile, and he still looks so _fucking_ awkward and; god; it’s adorable.

Newt hugs him; of course he does; and he doesn’t even care about the acrid scent of smoke. “I love you,” he says, again, and kisses Hermann’s cheek. “Please don’t try and bake again.”

Hermann laughs. “I love you too,” he says, “next year I’ll order them from the bakery.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [autisticharrow](https://autisticharrow.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
